


when next to wild animals --

by arbitrarily



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitrarily/pseuds/arbitrarily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl forgets not to want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when next to wild animals --

**Author's Note:**

> ambiguous future fic, assumes general spoilers through the books.

_1._

A girl takes, he says. 

A girl takes, and she takes, and she forgets.

I’m not a girl, the girl says, ignoring the rest. She does not ask what she forgets. He tells it to her anyway.

A girl takes, and she forgets that to take is to want. A girl forgets -- you take too often, you’ll be expected to give.

Give what? she asks, and her lip curls. She snarls like the wolf she keeps at her feet. Like the wolf that stalks in her wake, licking blood from its snout, tongue as wet and pink as the girl’s own. 

As vicious and hungry as the girl upon her return.

 

 

 _2._

The girl returned.

 A girl does not speak of her travels. A girl does not call these travels her adventures.

A girl finds a boy she left.

And a girl finds a man.

A boy, a man: a girl will speak of neither.

She will speak of neither, nor will she call them forgotten.

 

 

_3._

She holds him down by the throat, and he lets her.

His hips buck up into her as his breathing goes ragged, harsh, labored as he lets her, as he does not fight the hand around his throat.

A girl takes, he says.

Her fist tightens.

He allows it.

 

 

 _4._

The girl has no face. The girl is not a girl; she is an instrument, a design.

The boy is still a boy but they built him as a man. 

They built him as a bull, and much like the animal, he is stubborn, all brawn and bunched muscle. He works the metal to meet his will. He creates an instrument, a design.

He did not create her. The girl has no face, and she has no history.

If she has no history, then she has no beginning -- she has no end. 

She is not of his design. She will not bend to his will, the bull masquerading as a boy.

 

 

_5._

The girl without a face smiles slow, a horrifying sight to behold. The mud caked along her neck is the blood spilled from before is the skin that sticks underhand. 

Under his hand when he tries for gentle, under the boy’s hand when he means to grab her face. The boy grabs for her face, means to hold her steady, still, steady and still so he can taste her mouth and taste her skin, all that dirt and blood she takes.

A man knows kindness works the same as trickery.

A man knows how best to treat with animals gone wild.

The boy tries to match savagery with brute strength. 

The boy has gone just as wild.

 

 

_6._

He fucks her same as he drives a hammer down against warmed metal. He pounds into her and waits for her to meet his shape. 

The girl bows her back and her hair spills long, a knotted and tangled mane the boy pulls in heavy fists. She arches her spine -- the only shape she has to offer him. 

The girl scratches his back and she pulls at his flesh -- dulled dirty fingernails breaking his skin, tight wet cunt clenching around him -- and she arches, she snarls, vicious and hungry upon her return.

The boy bites, but not like the wolf.

The girl shakes.

A man watches.

 

 

_7._

A girl wants too much, he said.

His fingers ghosted along her throat. She gasped.

And then she struck.


End file.
